


Together at Christmas

by vidnyia



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21944341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vidnyia/pseuds/vidnyia
Summary: It's Armin's first Christmas without his family, and Jean is determined to make sure he isn't lonely.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 9
Kudos: 71





	Together at Christmas

It wasn’t that Armin hated Christmas.

As a kid, he loved it. It was his favourite season. Every year, his family packed up the car and they all drove to Armin’s grandfather’s house in the countryside. It was an old house, perched up high on a cliff that overlooked the sea, far from civilisation. It was huge, and it had a big library. That was Armin’s favourite place in the world, perched up with all the books at the top of the house with the fire burning strong and a view of the ocean out of the window.

This Christmas was the first time in twenty-one years that he wouldn’t be going. And that left a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn’t have a family anymore. It made everything feel… bleak around this time of year. 

For the last four years, it had been just him and his grandfather, after he lost both his parents in the summer between sixth form and university. Christmas had lost its spark. He wasn’t a kid anymore, and his grandfather was sick. Every year, he wondered if it would be the last they got to spend together. 

And this year, he was finally on his own. It wasn’t that he hated Christmas. He was just scared of being alone. 

As the days led up to Christmas, Armin watched all of his flatmates go home to their families. Eren was taking Mikasa abroad. He’d asked Armin if he wanted to come, but he turned him down. He always felt a little lonely when it was the three of them these days. Reiner was going to visit Bertholdt’s dad with him, and Connie had gone home to his village, too. 

Armin was prepared to be the only one left, but when Christmas Eve rolled around, he was surprised to find that he wasn’t. He turned the heating up, made breakfast, then shut himself in his room for most of the day to work on an essay. It wasn’t until it was dark that he came out to eat again. 

In the kitchen, everything was still decorated like it was when they’d all had their Christmas dinner together a few days before. They’d put up some shitty tinsel around the door frames and window sills, and Connie had thought it would be hilarious to tape a pine-shaped air freshener to the wall as none of them could afford a tree. Even the dishes that Eren had promised to wash before leaving were still stacked up on the side. Armin had counted that dinner they’d all had together as his actual Christmas, and planned to get as much university work done as he could for the rest of the winter holidays just to take his mind off everything. 

After he ‘d eaten some leftovers, Armin sat at the wobbly dining table with a mince pie and a cup of tea and started reading one of his textbooks, trying not to think about how lonely he was. It worked for a while - at least until a voice interrupted him and made him nearly jump out of his skin. 

“Don’t tell me you’re doing your homework on Christmas Eve. That, no offence, is reaching whole new levels of nerd.”

Armin turned around quickly, almost knocking his tea off the table, and narrowed his eyes when he saw Jean standing behind him, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked, surprised. “Are you not going home?”

“Me?” Jean asked, striding over. He sat on the stool next to Armin and closed his textbook for him. “Nah.”

“Why not?” Armin asked. 

Jean paused for a moment. “My family were going to Germany to meet up with my grandma, but I didn’t have the time. Or money. Plus my mum’s new boyfriend is going, and he’s a bit of a prick, so...”

Armin blinked at him. He couldn’t understand it. If his parents or grandfather were still here, he would have done anything to make sure he could see them for Christmas. He supposed Jean’s family might be different, but still… it didn’t sit right with him. 

“Oh,” he said quietly. 

“Do you not celebrate Christmas?” Jean asked, leaning in to steal the rest of Armin’s half-eaten mince pie. He was always so  _ close _ , it made Armin’s cheeks heat up. 

“What?” Armin asked, turning away. “I mean,  _ yeah, _ I just…”

He didn’t know what to say. Sure, he and Jean were friends, and maybe sometimes they flirted a little, but it didn’t feel appropriate to dump all of his emotional baggage on him. Especially not at this time of year. 

“What is it?” Jean asked. Armin bit his lip. Jean was always telling him to be more blunt, anyway. 

“I don’t have anyone to celebrate with, so I don’t see the point,” Armin said, hoping that he didn’t sound as lonely as he felt. He opened his book again just to have something to focus on. He didn’t want to start crying in front of Jean. “It’s fine. I’ve got a lot of work to do anyway.”

Jean didn’t really react. Armin got the gut feeling that he might have already known, and it made him horribly embarrassed. His intuition was rarely wrong. 

“You have someone to celebrate with,” Jean said. He didn’t press Armin for more information. It was like he just intrinsically knew Armin’s boundaries and never crossed them. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Jean…”

“Aw come on, Ar, you can’t leave me all bored and alone at Christmas…”

Armin’s face was burning at the use of that nickname. He knew Jean was just teasing, but it really got to him. He’d never had a nickname before.

“What do you suggest we do, then?”

“Well,” Jean started. He got up and took Armin’s hand like it wasn’t a big deal, pulling him over to the old, ratty sofa that was usually straining under the weight of five or more people. Now, though, it was just them. The house was theirs. 

“We watch Christmas films,” Jean grinned, booting up his console so they could watch Netflix on the TV. 

“Christmas films?”

Armin’s family had never been the type to watch films. His grandfather used to tell them stories, sure, and his mom would always force everyone to play painfully long board games, but they never sat down in front of the TV.

“Yeah, they’re like normal films, but about Christmas,” Jean said, grinning at him. Armin sighed and rolled his eyes, not amused. “Which one’s your favourite?”

Armin tried to think back to any he’d seen at Eren’s house when they were kids, but he was coming up blank. “Um…”

“You haven’t seen any?”

“Not that I remember,” Armin said. “My family weren’t big on TV.”

Armin saw Jean catch the use of past tense, but he didn’t say anything about it. He smiled a little to himself. He appreciated it. Everyone else that knew about his family always treated him like he was fragile, and it just made Armin feel worse. But Jean just acted the same way around him that he always did - silly and teasing. 

“Well, that’s alright,” Jean said. “It just means I can make you watch all of my favourites, right?”

“Is this a hostage situation?” Armin asked, raising his eyebrows. 

“Absolutely.” Jean didn’t even bother to deny it. He just threw the blankets over Armin and went to their crappy microwave to make snacks. “I’m making Christmas popcorn.”

“Don’t tell me. It’s like popcorn with -”

“With cinnamon on it,” Jean grinned. Armin laughed and couldn’t help but find it endearing. “Maybe a bit of nutmeg, if I’m feeling spicy.”

“If you’re feeling spicy,” Armin repeated.

“Yeah. Nutmeg is a spice, Armin.”

Armin sighed, but he was smiling. “Is it even good?”

“I’m the one making it, Ar, you know it’s gonna be good.”

“I’ll see about that.”

“Oh, you will.”

Jean, as it turned out, had a very typical taste in film. While the popcorn was popping, Jean put on some action film that Armin wasn’t even sure counted as a Christmas movie, even though Jean insisted it did. Armin was trying to focus on the TV, but he kept getting distracted, looking over at Jean and the way his face screwed up his face in concentration as he counted the seconds between each pop. It was… oddly cute. 

“Here,” Jean said eventually, bringing just one big bowl over. He got under the blankets with Armin, scooting right up next to him so their hips and shoulders were touching. “Try some.”

Armin went to pick up a kernel, but Jean beat him to it, trying to feed him one. 

“Absolutely not!” Armin spluttered, pushing Jean’s hand away. 

“But it’s a tradition!” 

“A tradition? What kind of tradition is that?”

“The kind I just made up?” Jean teased, trying again, but Armin stole the kernel from his hand and put it in his mouth himself. 

“Wait,” Armin said, trying another. “Wait, this is actually really good.”

“Told you,” Jean smirked, leaning back into the sofa and putting his feet on the coffee table. Armin uncharacteristically followed suit. “Don’t underestimate my cooking skills.”

“Cooking?” Armin asked. “You put some cinnamon on microwave popcorn, Jean, I wouldn’t exactly call that cooking.”

“Are you challenging me?”

“Do you need to make  _ everything _ into a competition?”

“Yes.” Jean brushed his hand against Armin’s as they both reached into the bowl at the same time. “Come on. Let me cook you Christmas dinner tomorrow.”

“We already had a Christmas dinner here. Eren made it. You were there.”

Neither of them were paying any attention to the film.

“That, with full offense intended, was shit,” Jean said. “All Eren did was throw a bunch of stuff in the oven and call it a day. That’s hardly cooking.”

“Oh, and Christmas popcorn is the height of cuisine?”

Jean laughed and tried to feed him again, but Armin ducked his head. 

“Listen,” Jean laughed. “What I’m trying to say is that I can cook you an amazing Christmas dinner, and you should let me.”

“Why should I let you?”

“Because it’ll hurt my feelings if you don’t,” Jean pouted, sticking his bottom lip out. 

That made Armin cave, and he finally looked back at the screen. “Why? What’s in it for you?”

“I’ve been wanting to cook you dinner for a while,” Jean said matter-of-factly, like that was a normal thing to say, like it wasn’t making Armin’s face hot and his heart race. “This seemed like a pretty good opportunity, right?”

Armin couldn’t look at him. He was staring at the screen, trying to figure out a way to reply to that. Did that mean what he thought it meant? 

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Jean said, quieter now, “if you don’t want it to.”

Armin couldn’t believe that this was real, that the crush he’d been pushing down for years was leading up to this. He knew that Jean was flirtier with him than he was with everyone else, but he never expected that it went deeper like this. He couldn’t help but smile. 

“It can mean something,” he murmured, blushing even harder. He still wasn’t looking at Jean, but it was like he could  _ hear  _ him smiling. 

“Okay,” Jean said, cuddling a bit closer. Armin didn’t stop him. “Are you watching this?”

“No,” Armin admitted. 

“Shall we watch something else?”

“I thought you wanted to watch Christmas films?”

“I do,” Jean said. “But I’d rather watch one that’s a bit more wholesome.”

“I didn’t have you down as the wholesome type.”

“I have a reputation to uphold, Armin, it’s very important.”

“Oh? I must be special, then, if I get to see your wholesome side,” Armin joked. 

“Yeah,” Jean said plainly, and it made Armin’s heart stop. How was he so good at this, so casual at flirting?

He put on a different movie, still trying to feed Armin popcorn, and Armin thought that if he kept it up he might let him. 

This film was nothing like the kind of thing Armin expected Jean to like. It was about lots of different couples, each plotline interweaving somehow. Armin was quick to pick out the plot holes, but he didn’t mention anything, because it really seemed like Jean was enjoying himself. 

“Did you know,” Jean said with his mouth full, when they were about halfway through the film, “that they filmed a queer storyline for this?”

Armin perked up a bit at that. He’d always been curious (maybe a bit  _ more _ than curious) about Jean’s sexuality. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. But they cut it out, the bastards,” Jean said. “I think it would have been cool.”

“It would have,” Armin agreed. 

Jean was looking at him, sneaking glances every five seconds. 

“Hey,” he said. 

“Yeah?” Armin asked. 

“You’re gay, right?”

Armin huffed out a laugh. “Jean, I’ve been out since we were freshers.  _ Yes,  _ I’m gay.”

“I’m just checking!” Jean insisted, and Armin caught a faint blush on his cheeks. 

“Besides…” Armin continued, blushing too. “Isn’t it kind of obvious?”

“Like I said, I’m just… I wanted to be sure.”

“I guess I should be too, then,” Armin said. “Are you gay?”

“No,” Jean said. Armin stared at him blankly, almost in shock. “I’m bi.”

He laughed when Armin breathed a sigh of relief, and poked him in the side. 

“Don’t tease,” Armin huffed, but he was relieved. He had a tendency to question his own judgement sometimes, even though he was almost always right.

“Oh, were you worried about it?” 

“No,” Armin lied, huffing. 

“Sure.”

“You’re missing the film,” Armin blushed. 

“I am, yeah, but that’s fine,” Jean grinned. “This is a lot more entertaining anyway.”

They watched a few more movies after that. Somehow, Jean’s arm ended up curled around Armin’s shoulders, and after they both took a break to get ready for bed and change in their pyjamas, they were back on the sofa somehow more cuddled up than they had been before. 

When Armin woke up on Christmas morning, he didn’t remember falling asleep. His head was in Jean’s lap, and Jean’s hand was in his hair. He got up quickly, his face bright red. It made Jean stir. 

“Merry Christmas,” Jean murmured sleepily, rubbing his eyes. 

Oh, right. Yeah. It was Christmas. His face fell. 

“Merry Christmas,” he said back. Jean seemed to notice his change in tone because he stood up and grinned at him. 

“No being sad on Christmas,” he said, and led Armin up the creaky stairs to his room. Armin stood awkwardly in the doorway, trying not to stare at Jean’s room, while Jean rifled through his drawers. 

“What are you doing?” Armin asked. 

“Here,” Jean said. “Put this on.”

“Is that a  _ Christmas jumper?” _

“Yep,” Jean said, pulling out another one and putting it on. 

“Jean, it’s hideous.”

“That’s the point, now put it on. Or else.”

Armin sighed, laughing a little as he did what Jean said. It was huge on him. His fingertips barely poked out from the bottom of the sleeves, and it reached halfway down his thighs. 

“You look cute,” Jean said, “now come on, I need help with dinner. You can peel potatoes, right?”

Helping with Christmas dinner was a tradition Armin was used to, at least. As they worked together, Armin couldn’t help but think about his family. His mum would always tell him it was his job to cut an ‘x’ into every brussel sprout, and even when he was little he would stand there at the kitchen side next to her, standing on a chair. He didn’t need the chair anymore, but he still asked Jean if he could do that job. 

When it was just him and his grandfather, Armin tried making Christmas dinner on his own, but both times it was a complete disaster. His grandfather hadn’t minded. Jean was definitely a lot more competent. Armin knew that Jean cooked, but he seemed so… on top of everything. Almost like he’d planned this. It made him blush a little, knowing that Jean had gone to such lengths for him, even though he’d never admit it. 

It took them hours. They were both sweaty by the end of it, and very, very hungry, but Armin was beaming once they sat down to eat.

“I honestly… I had kind of just planned to shut myself in my room today,” he admitted, staring down at his roast potatoes. 

“I know,” Jean said. “I didn’t want that, so…”

“Thank you,” Armin said quietly. “It means a lot.”

“Don’t thank me,” Jean rolled his eyes. “I told you, I’ve been wanting to do this for ages.”

Armin stole a glance at him and their eyes met. 

“We could do it again,” he suggested. 

Jean speared a brussel sprout on his fork and raised it up like a toast. 

“Yeah,” he smiled. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

* * *

As they ate, and spent the rest of the day together, Armin found himself laughing more than he had in months. It was strange, nothing like he’d expected. Even when Jean tried to get him with the mistletoe and Armin had to duck out of the way to make sure their first kiss wasn’t so cheesy, he was laughing. There was something about fighting with Jean for the last potato, about wearing his jumper with the sleeves rolled up four times, about the constant noise that kept him distracted from his thoughts. 

He missed his family, more than anything. But for the first time since they had gone, he felt the reminders of their company in Jean. He knew that Jean knew. He knew that there was sincerity behind his teasing and flirting. 

And that meant the world to him. 


End file.
